Chapter 29
I wake up next to Aubrey and shift over. I love having her soft, warm body pressed up against me, but my arm is numb in this position. As I move, keeping her tucked close but sending blood back through my limb, the bed squeaks. I cringe.
Maybe Marian made that joke about a newlywed couple reserving this room because she already knows how loud this particular bed is. I should be embarrassed, but I don’t let myself go there.
Note to self: donate the funds to update the Goldfinch’s beds.
I can’t focus on being caught making too much noise. All I can concentrate on as I come fully awake is keeping this woman with me and how I can score a repeat—endless repeat—chance to wake up snuggled under the covers like this. I’ve got to make her believe me. Even though she took charge last night, going down on me and then riding me like the sexiest, boldest woman in the universe, I know she’s not on the same page as me. She wanted to insist that she feels the same. I sensed that, but still, she’s holding back. She still believes that she can’t give in to loving me because the cost of ever losing me is too great.
Even though she was driving me wild with need, I didn’t miss how she failed to say those crucial words back to me. I. Love. You. I hadn’t intended to tell her that yet. We need to take this slow. I was content with the level of honesty I have given her. I told her that I was falling in love with her, that I had. And those were facts. Giving her those pivotal three words was a huge step for me. I swore to never love a woman again, yet here I was, doing it and making a mess of it when she couldn’t reply in kind.
That’s so not fair. It’s not right of me to expect to hear them back no matter how much hurt I carry in my past. She isn’t ready, and I’ve got no place to pressure her into loving me or admitting it. But I hate the lie of it all. The way she came to me and made me feel last night is living proof of her love. At the same time, I’m disappointed in how we’re mismanaging all of this. I get it. She’s been hurt too. Like Marian advised, I need to remember that Aubrey has been alone. That she’s been grieving and frightened of facing another loss.
Her explanations about it broke me. I saw how she fought back tears, and I had to rein myself in and resist the urge to hold and comfort her, knowing she needed to speak her part first. I’ve got to find a way to convince her that she won’t lose me. I can’t guarantee longevity. No one can, but aside from that, I’ve got to figure out how to get her to believe I won’t leave her. I wouldn’t let that happen, just as I told her. I meant it when I said I love her, no matter what. Come hell or highwater, I’ll love her and support her as we face any obstacles that come our way.
The idea of getting on a flight kills me. I hate the very thought of returning to New York City tonight, but that has been my plan. I’ve got to go speak with Johanna and end it once and for all, no matter what dumb shenanigans she might try to force me to face. It’s over—more than over. And I’ve moved on.
It’s as simple as that. I’ve moved on to Aubrey and this happiness she makes me feel. And I do not want to go.
Do I have to? I lie here and consider it all, but it feels like straining and grasping at anything that comes to mind. It’s not logical to think and plan like this, but I can’t help it.
Like I told Caleb, that old marriage license application won’t hold. It’s too old and past its date. Besides, no license application would be approved unless I myself was there, in person, with Johanna. And I will never enter that situation. She’s got another thing coming if she’s hoping this too-public post about us would prompt me to seek a new application, buy another ring, and make her dreams come true.
Dreams I used to have. I snort, amused yet not, at the irony of it all. Twisted, bitter irony. It tastes lousy.
But do I really have to go? Johanna can be dismissed. She can pull stunts all she wants on social media, and none of them will result in us being engaged. If I go that route of ignoring her, I don’t have many obstacles that would keep me from staying here with Aubrey.
Her news of a job here surprised me. I’m proud of her for trying to move ahead with her life. She’s a scrappy woman like that, and I admire that about her. If she’s hooked on teaching here, I could come here in order to let her keep her work a priority. I can do my business remotely. I could be like Caleb and head to the city only as needed, infrequently.
Or…
I could sell my company. Retire early and live off my savings to focus on my foundations. I’ve got more than enough money to afford it, and my real estate empire isn’t about obtaining or maintaining my wealth. It’s always been about having a purpose, of having something to work on and strive toward.
But I can do that with my foundations, too. And remotely.
The more I ponder it, I grow more excited about making that decision. To up and leave New York after cashing out on my company and stocks. To stay here and pursue happiness with Aubrey.
Why not?
I sigh, gazing at her as she lies here so peacefully, unaware of the frantic thoughts I’m piecing together in my mind.
Am I being too rash?
Is she worth it?
Am I just thinking below the belt and not my head? My heart over my head?
Worse, I wonder again about the deeper wounds with fresher scar tissue.
What if she leaves me? Or cheats?
I mentally groan, too worked up to just stay in bed and fester with the bombardment of questions hitting me. Without waking her, I slip out of bed and head into the shower. Caleb is right. The Goldfinch bed-and-breakfast has the best water pressure. I stand there for a long while, not caring if I get wrinkly. The steam soothes me. The hot water kneads the tense muscles of my upper back and neck. It’s no solution or remedy to my troubles, but I do feel better after relaxing in there.
I don’t have ample time to think. Instead, I zone out, and it helps somehow. When I step out, dry, and get dressed, though, I feel sharper. My mind isn’t clear, not even close, but I feel relaxed and ready to be rational, at least.
I exit the bathroom to find Aubrey sitting on the edge of the bed. She looks sexy yet untouchable. I know she’s naked, but with the sheet wrapped so tightly around her, it would require immense patience to unearth her.
For good reason. She’s erecting walls again, putting her guard up. I can tell. She’s holding my phone, looking so damn sad.
“Johanna called you eight times.” She won’t make eye contact, keeping her gaze downcast. I hear the pain in her tone. “Eight times in fifteen minutes. Why?” Now she pierces me with her eyes, and I hate the agony I see there. She pins me with such a direct look that it hurts.
Dammit. I should’ve told her. Caleb warned me. He told me I had to come clean and explain everything about Johanna. He’s right, and I was already aware of how I needed to do this. I told Aubrey the basics about it back at the resort, but I’ve neglected to tell her the latest. That my ex is going crazy to share blatant teases that she wants to be engaged. I’ve screwed up. Again.
I should’ve told her!
“Look, she’s got issues. She wants to talk—”
“No. Someone wanting to talk calls once or twice and leaves a voicemail. They don’t stalk you and call obsessively.”
“She is obsessed though.”
She raises her brows.
Not the right thing to say. I need to reassure her, not scare her. “Johanna has it in her mind that we can get back together. She’s trying to force me to come talk to her even though I’ve told her many times that we’re done.”
With a sad sigh, Aubrey shakes her head and looks at the floor again. I can’t stand this lack of eye contact. While I loathe the way she puts me on the spot with that direct stare, I hate this disconnect. Even if I feel like squirming and I’m uncomfortable to have to answer to her, I will. She matters too much to mess this up.
“I thought you said…” She clears her throat.
“Look at me. Please.”
I watch her throat as she struggles to swallow. Her eyes are glossy when she faces me, and her expressions slays me. So does the sad tone of her voice when she speaks. “I thought you said there was something between us—”
“Not was. Is. There is something between us, Aubrey. And I will fight for it. I told you I’m falling in love with you. That I think I already have.”
I love you. This time, I’m too nervous to repeat it out loud. It doesn’t feel right. And I can’t stomach the vulnerability I feel at wanting to voice those words.
“But you still have this going on with her back home, and—”
“No! I don’t have anything going on with Johanna. She just wants to talk and is trying to threaten me to—”
“This was a mistake.” She shoots to her feet and with an armful of the sheet, she keeps herself covered as she rushes for the shared door.
“It’s not a mistake,” I argue as I intercept her. I stop her, blocking her from reaching the portal that connects our rooms. “Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing you can say.”
“The hell there isn’t!”
She presses her lips together and tips her chin up defiantly. “No. There’s nothing that can change how it is. You’re going back to New York. I’m going to wait for my application to be considered for that teaching position here. There’s just no way this could work between us, Dalton. I think we both know it.”
Her rejection slaps me in the face. I step back, needing distance between us before I react.
Once again—rejected.
Once again—heartbroken.
Once again—I’m not chosen by the woman I see as my future.
How many times will this happen? When will I learn?
I don’t register her leaving until I hear the shared door click closed after she shuts it.
I reel back, staggering toward the bed as a hard realization dawns over me.
I didn’t learn a damn thing. I never will. After Aubrey telling me no like that, I see where I erred. Deep down, I know the reason I allowed Johanna to contact me without hearing her out was that I wanted to hold on to the dying hope of an old dream. A fantasy that I would have a woman, a partner, to truly share my life with and grow old with. But I didn’t wake up fast enough to see that my dream, my real dream has been right in front of me this whole time. I clung to the idea of Johanna still being in my life in a distant way because I feared never finding a future to look forward to. I didn’t want Johanna, but I held on to her contact because she represented the last time I went for that damn dream of a forever with a woman.
But my real fate, my real dream, has been here all along.
Aubrey. She’s the one I want. She’s the one I want to argue with until we’re officially an old married couple who can enjoy the stereotype of bickering with each other too much. She’s the one I want to go to sleep with and wake up next to each morning.
Aubrey is my dream, and I’ve just royally messed it up.
Hours later, when I board my flight to return to New York, I’m still staggering with that revelation. I dismiss the details of my first-class seat. I ignore the other passengers settling in.
I stare straight ahead and struggle to escape the awful feeling of making the biggest mistake of my life. I’m an absolute idiot. I have to be because I know without a doubt that I’m leaving my dream girl back at the Goldfinch in Colorado.